Ignatius
by RavensHeart85
Summary: Everyone wants to believe in those stories about a love so powerful and true that it endures all obstacles and defies even time itself… It's what we all hold out hope for, even in the deepest depths of our hearts - the darkest places, even when all hope seems lost - a fire can ignite to guide us back again.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_

_This story's overall plot and storyline was created jointly by TheForgottenLover and RavensHeart85 with the majority of content written by RavensHeart85. Flashbacks will be denoted with separation and will be italicized._

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Lightning is a curious force of nature. Who would have ever guessed electricity came from the clouds? How can something so dangerous be so beautiful, so hypnotic and enticing? Like fire, it can consume without warning - ignite, and burn - warm you and harm you within the same strike. It's funny how you can become so drawn to something - that it can take you in completely, without you even realizing it - and could then easily become your destruction.

Hermione watched intently as the lightning flashed through the small, stained glass window from her position in the library, thoughts swirling through her mind like the sweeping winds outside. Off in the distance, the sky was pouring its rage out on the ground beneath it, drowning everything in its path. Drizzle had already begun to form on the window, and she watched as each drop slid slowly down the glass, and onto the structure of the castle, disappearing as the winds picked up and swept the drop away before it had time to settle. This was the type of weather she enjoyed the most - ominous, frightening, yet wild and exciting. Something about the darkness always drew her in. She could feel goose bumps on her skin and imagined being out in the storm, standing in the middle of it all, as the winds raged around her, chilling her, soaking her and making her feel alive. She took advantage of these rare storms because they were the only thing in her life that made her feel much of anything anymore. She longed to run down the many winding stairs of the castle and out onto the grounds, to feel part of something once more, something alive and free.

But she had responsibilities to care for now and no time to play with frivolous wishes or entertain fleeting fantasies. Those days were buried far behind her and even now, these were still dark times. It wasn't always so. Even in the darkest days there had been light to be found, and somehow, back then, it seemed to shine even brighter in that darkness. For the moment she had allowed a small smile to cross her lips as she recalled a particular memory from her early years at Hogwarts. In times like these she always seemed to lower the wall around her heart and fell victim to her memory, thinking of her friends and all she had lost. Even then, the storm couldn't shelter her.

She looked away from the window and stared down at the book she'd just grabbed off a shelf from the restricted section in the library. _Dementors and Otherworldly Creatures - _she couldn't help but grimace at the cover. The information she was looking for didn't seem like it would be in here, but it was a start. The sketch of a Dementor floated around the front page of the book, sucking the souls out of their feebly drawn victims, and repeated in a cycle. Her memories made her feel as though the illustrations were real. Surely though, some crude author's rendition could not affect her in such a way. She drew in as much air as her lungs would take in and let it out slowly in an attempt to relax. She used to be able to focus a lot easier when she was younger, and back then, surrounded by her beloved books would have provided sanctuary. She shook her head, as if to dissolve the thoughts away so she could focus on things that actually mattered – things she could realistically change. It took great effort to finally pry herself from the window and out of the world she once shared with the girl with the fiery red hair.

It'd been seven years since the war ended - since the days where it seemed her life came to a halt. Of course they were victorious and she was still alive, she still existed, but it was merely that – existing. Compared to most people after the war, Hermione was still one of the lucky ones. Most people would be pleased with the position she had achieved at Hogwarts. Not everyone could say they are the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, now could they? Since she had begun teaching, she had seen children come in after the war, safe and hopeful after the grand defeat of evil and watched them leave with their dreams in intact - their lives, untouched, untainted. It made her wonder what it would be like to have been a normal student at Hogwarts, without the Dark Lord, without the infamy of her involvement.

What if she was just Hermione Granger, plain and simple know-it-all who spent her days quietly in the library? Whose greatest challenges would have been tackling her O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S.? What if she never talked to Harry Potter or Ron? Would she have still fallen in love with her? Would she be any different from the hollow shell standing at the window now, watching a storm swallowing the ground much in the same way she felt as if she were drowning in the past?

Hermione could tell her mind was wandering off too far. She didn't want to go in too deep, and didn't want to remember because it hurt too much. After all these years, she knew just how dangerous these questions were. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard it hurt, shook her head once more, and took a seat at the desk scattered with quills, parchment, and the few notes she had accumulated thus far.

"Please…make me forget." Hermione whispered to no one.

She opened her eyes, ready to focus on the research in front of her. She'd been gathering research all summer long, and so far it'd kept her mind at ease. The only thing she could focus on was her work, because that's all her life had become. She was grateful to have the undertaking that was assigned to her by Headmistress McGonagall at the end of the previous year. Having such a challenging task to tackle would undoubtedly consume the majority of her thoughts, enabling her to escape herself for an extended amount of time. However, she couldn't help but feel as though McGonagall may have chosen the wrong person for the job. She wanted someone to do the impossible - she asked Hermione to find out how to defeat a Dementor permanently – and not just one, but possibly several at once. Everyone believed you couldn't kill a Dementor, but McGonagall was determined that there was a solution out there and she was positive that Hermione would be the one to figure it out.

Hermione sighed and opened the book in front of her, partly to get her work done, and partly to stop staring at that creepy image. She'd read through so many books, the information had started to blend together like a blur. There were no sources that indicated it was possible to kill a Dementor, or to defeat it permanently, only to drive one away, but she couldn't let that deter her. She had to figure this out – McGonagall was depending on her and she was not one to leave disappointed. With the Dementors no longer under Ministry control and unwilling to return to their service after being freed by Voldemort, they had spent the last several years unchecked and plaguing the wizarding world. It seemed now, more than ever, they were in abundance and their effects could be felt all over the world. Hermione needed to find something and she needed to find it quick. Leafing through the pages, she hoped this book would prove more informative than the last.

_Dementors are a most unusual and horrifying creature. They feed off the despair of their victims and drain any happy memories the victim has stored in their memory. They are known to feed on people until there is no happiness or hope left inside of them, leaving the poor victim just as the Dementors are – a soulless and empty shell. They are considered to be one of the foulest creatures in the wizarding world and should not be approached willingly. If confronted, the only line of defense comes from a skilled wizard/witch who can conjure the Patronus spell…_

Being the brightest witch of her age, she already knew all of this. Maybe that was why McGonagall chose her for the job – because she thought she was so miserable that even a Dementor couldn't harm her anymore so it wasn't such a loss if she took the risk to challenge such a vile creature directly.

She skipped through the next few chapters, browsing each page briefly. A paragraph alluding to the reproduction of a Dementor caught her eye and she stopped to read:

_The exact origins of Dementors are unknown. Any possible observations or witnessing of Dementor reproduction or spawning should be reported to the Ministry of Magic. Credible sources only, please._

She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of what it would look like to watch Dementors mating. The reality of the vision quickly turned her laughter into a cringe. So many thoughts began to run through her mind at this new development. Is such a thing even possible? How did they come into existence? There weren't always so many Dementors in the world, but now the Ministry had seen a boom in numbers. It could only stand to reason that some of the Dementors would have to mate…wouldn't they? There had to be a reason more were being created. But who would be foolish enough to try to find out how? No one would get close enough…no one except for…well, Luna Lovegood maybe.

An image of Luna dressed in a dark cloak in a ridiculous attempt to disguise as a Dementor entered her mind as she chuckled. Surely, Loony Lovegood would be the only one nutty enough to try something like that. She made a mental note to ask her opinion the next time she saw her, since Luna now taught Care of Magical Creatures.

"Discover something amusing, Professor Granger?" Headmistress McGonagall's stern voice cut off her chuckle prematurely, but a small smile lingered on her lips. She stood at the edge of the stacks, arms slightly crossed with her hands gently gripping each other. Her eyes peered at the younger witch through her emerald spectacles. Even as an adult, the woman could still make Hermione feel like a small student at times.

"Oh, I was just reading about the possible procreation and reproduction of Dementors, and then my mind wandered." Hermione said quietly. She knew she was supposed to be on task, and she was, but it was like she couldn't even laugh without her swooping in on her and trying to keep her on track. Hermione felt it was probably wise to withhold mention of the image of Luna.

McGonagall stared at her for a moment, her face was stern but Hermione could tell the concept of Dementors and their origin had her mind buzzing. The shine in her eyes gave away her thoughts; something the younger witch learned about her mentor over time. She rarely showed any external emotion, but the eyes were always the window to the soul. McGonagall cleared her throat, "I don't see what that has to do with the task at hand, Professor Granger. Of course any information about one's foe is always helpful, but I don't see how this particular piece of information is crucial to our cause. If you think it might be helpful, then pursue that course, but I would prefer it if you stuck to a more proactive and combative approach first and foremost."

"I don't either, but I thought it was rather…humorous, albeit in a horrifically and disgustingly creepy way. I mean once you wonder about how a Dementor could engage in sexual intercourse, your mind can't help but postulate how exactly it occurs. Don't you think so too, Headmistress? Perhaps I should discuss this matter with Professor Lovegood."

Hermione found herself rambling, partly because of the fact she just used the term "sexual intercourse" in relation to a Dementor in a conversation with none other than the sternest Headmistress Hogwarts had possibly seen in several decades, and also due to the expression she was now being met with. The smile she feigned in attempt to pass it off as a joke fell when she saw the Headmistress's admonishing look didn't falter and the frown she was so accustomed to once again returned. She cleared her throat and awkwardly turned her attention back to the book on the desk, quickly turning the page.

"I think you need to focus on how to get rid of them, not on how or if they mate. The war may be over, Miss. Granger, but dark things still haunt our world and the days have grown darker. Besides, as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I would think you would know full well that Dementors do not breed. They simply appear much like a fungus, forming from the decay of human emotion and growing through their despair. Honestly, what book are you reading?"

McGonagall glanced at the cover, grimaced at the illustration, and sat down across from her. In that very moment Hermione felt like a Dementor was going to sprout out from within her and swallow her whole. There was a knowing look in McGonagall's eyes as she looked her over, studying her over the rims of her glasses. Her stern look faded somewhat and her voice softened.

"Hermione, you know this is a very important task I've given to you, very important indeed. As I said, I appreciate you research and exploring all aspects, but urgency and action is required. Dementors are running amok, their numbers have grown, and if nothing is done soon, we will be facing a much bigger problem."

Hermione stared quietly at her, waiting to see if she had anything else to say, and when she didn't, she finally asked the question that had been on her mind.

"Why have you chosen me to do this?" She could hear the full force of the storm outside, thunder roaring after her words.

She looked at her as if she should already know the answer. "Because you're the brightest witch I have on staff. If anyone is up for the challenge, certainly it's you. I know you can do it, you just have to focus. Your intelligence and determination have always been your gift, Hermione, and for so many years it has saved us all on more than one occasion." McGonagall gave her a reassuring smile, but a smile for her was catching the brief twitch of her lips, and then it was gone.

As Hermione studied her, she found herself wondering if she was looking into her future. Would she become like McGonagall - a brilliant, respected witch, yet old and alone? So much to show for her life, but no one to share it with?

"Are you sure you didn't pick me because I'm always so miserable, it wouldn't really be a waste if I had my soul sucked out?" She tried to pass it off as a joke, but like so many jokes, it was laced with truth.

"You know better than that, Ms. Granger. Maybe if you had someone to help out, we could see some real progress." McGonagall's brain was already thinking of whom it could be, who would be willing to help out, convinced Hermione was probably just stumped in her research and not stuck in an emotional rut.

"Thank you Professor, but I am best when I'm alone." Hermione didn't know how honest that statement was, but she dismissed her suggestion before McGonagall could get any more ideas. No matter how annoying Hermione still found Luna, she knew she was the only one willing to help, and figured she was far better off in her blissful world of petting and feeding strange creatures that may or may not be physically present to the rest of the wizarding world.

"Very well then. So how are things looking for the new school year? Is everything prepared for your students?" McGonagall was quick to change the subject, getting back to business as usual. Her eyes surveyed the scattered notes, but then quickly moved back up to meet Hermione's.

"Of course, Headmistress. Have we any new staff this year? I know we've been shorthanded in some of our departments."

There it was again - that look in her eye. Hermione could tell McGonagall was up to something, but she didn't know what it was. She continued to stare with a stone cold face good enough to match even McGonagall's until she finally got her reply.

"Oh yes, we have filled up quite nicely. I'm especially excited to have our new Quidditch coach and flying instructor join our staff. It's not every day a Quidditch star decides to teach at Hogwarts!"

If there was one thing that always excited Professor McGonagall, it was the concept of Gryffindor playing fantastic Quidditch. Hermione raised her eyebrows curiously, even though she didn't care for the sport. Her mind jumped to Victor Krum immediately. "If he is a Quidditch star, then he will be an excellent teacher. I'm sure the children will adore him and will be thrilled to have a celebrity instructor."

"Well you are certainly correct about the celebrity part, but your assumption is a bit sexist, I am surprised to say. It's a woman, Ms. Granger." McGonagall said slyly.

"Oh, well my apologies. What is the new professor's name?" She asked, however she couldn't care less. Her eyes already roamed back to the book when she was completely caught off guard. It sounded like the Headmistress said a name she knew all too well, but it couldn't be true.

"…Weasley, the former Holyhead Harpies star! Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't already know."

"Pardon?" Hermione managed to croak out even though there was nothing wrong with her hearing. Her ears must have been playing a trick on her. A very cruel trick.

"Ginny Weasley. The two of you used to be glued together back in the day. It'll be nice to have another familiar face in the halls of Hogwarts, won't it?" This time she practically beamed.

Hermione knew it wouldn't be nice. It would be terrible! How was she supposed to forget about Ginny when she was going to be right underneath her nose? For so long she had been trying to escape everything that happened between them and bury it far behind her. It was hard enough not having her here, but now it would be impossible.

She felt as if she were suffocating, grasping for air as she was hopelessly drowning and her safe, secluded little world had suddenly decided to upturn on her and collapse. McGonagall could see the change in her appearance, and inquired if she was okay. Hermione stood up far too quickly and felt like she was about to pass out. She clung to the chair for dear life as if the small, inanimate object could somehow save her from the impending doom. She took several deep breaths to try to calm herself, but it was no use. She needed to get out of this place. She needed to put it all behind her and needed to leave before she completely broke down like a puddle on the cold floor. McGonagall couldn't see her like this. No one could see her like this, not after everything she had done to build up an impenetrable wall to protect herself.

Even now, despite all this time, Ginny could still get to her.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I suddenly feel ill." Hermione braved one glance and saw the concerned look in the older witch's face as she tried to get up and help her, but it was too late. She was already sprinting down the corridor and out into the open hallway. Even the open space did nothing to console her. She ran back to her chambers, trying to escape the inevitable that she had known for so long was chasing her, no matter how she tried to ignore it. A storm was coming for Hermione, and this time, there was nowhere to hide.

Hermione shut the door to her living quarters as fast as she could. She locked the door behind her for good measure, and braced herself against the back. She wished she could lock everything out, but there she was, finding herself making silly, fruitless wishes again. She was a logical person – something she knew all too well, but for once she wished it wasn't so. Her heart felt like it was beating a thousand times per minute, as she slid down the door until she collapsed into a heap on the floor, utterly drained. It took her a while to focus and sort through the millions of things in her mind as they attacked her without mercy. She could hear a familiar voice as images of Ginny Weasley invaded her thoughts - the beautiful, brave, and fiery girl who was so much more to her than words could ever begin to describe.

Her eyes began to sting and her throat went dry as she tried to fight the feelings that assaulted her. She could feel the warm liquid begging to pour from her eyes. Through blurred vision, she blinked furiously and watched as heavy tears poured off her face and onto her lap. It had been so long since she had cried, but it felt so relieving, and yet so terrifying to show such emotion. She leaned her head against the door as she stared at the mess she'd accumulated over the last seven years. Her chambers were full of books and notes, stacked up high, scrolls of parchment scattered here and there with used quills and ink bottles littering the desk. If you happened upon this place and were none the wiser, you might think it was a long abandoned library, not a place where someone was supposed to live. There were no pictures of family, lovers, or friends. There was no sign of life here at all.

In a fit of anger she kicked a textbook across the room and immediately regretted it because her books were the only things she had left that were precious to her. Her tears flowed freely now, and she allowed herself to remember the part of her life she'd tried so hard to forget. Hogwarts was the only life she had now and she knew she could never bring herself to leave this place. She'd spent the past seven years hiding from Ginny, but it seemed they would have their reunion at last.

The rain was beating hard against the castle now in full force, and the droplets that rolled down the window resembled the flow of tears streaming down Hermione's face. Her mind roamed free, and thoughts of Ginny returned. She couldn't fight it any longer. Her fingers found her lips as she began to form the name of her former friend and lover.

"…Ginny."

She hadn't said her name in so long, the form and sound against her lips felt odd.

She could see her long red hair in front of her. She felt just out of reach.

"Ginny."

She repeated, and was brought back to a time when she was happy. A time when the whisper of her name held an entirely different meaning and felt like home.

_The bright orange of the setting sun filled the tiny room in The Burrow. Hermione could hear Ginny's musical laughter, and when she looked up from her position on the bed, she saw her smiling, leaning against the bedroom door. The door had been locked and Ginny's wand rested in her right hand pointed toward it. Her tongue traced seductively across her lips as she stared at the older girl in silence, bit her bottom lip and smiled. _

"_The boys have gone out for a Quidditch match, they wanted me to join them, but I thought I'd spend some time with you." Ginny whispered as she began walking forward._

_Hermione felt her entire body shaking, her voice came out roughly._

"_Where are your parents?" Hermione's hands grabbed Ginny's waist once she was close enough, and pulled her in slowly. Every time she was close to her, it felt like the first time she was touching her. She ached to have her even closer._

"_Shopping. They won't be in for the rest of the afternoon." Ginny's smile widened into a mischievous grin._

_Hermione felt herself grinning back as her arms wrapped behind Ginny's back. Ginny gently pushed herself on top of her, causing her to fall backward against the bed in a soft thud. Her red hair hung past her shoulders down around Hermione, encasing her as it tickled her cheeks. She caught Hermione off guard as her hands trailed up the length of her arms, stopping abruptly to pin her against the bed._

"_What are you going to do with me?" _

_Hermione could feel her whole body shaking again in anticipation. She struggled for her mouth to reach Ginny's, but she kept herself just out of reach. The redhead was teasing her and she was enjoying this game._

"_Oh you know…a little of this…" Ginny's mouth came down quickly and nipped at her lips. Before she could return, she was already backing out of her reach again. _

"…_and maybe a little of that." Ginny's thigh found the gap between her legs and she felt pressure, just enough to elicit a soft moan._

"_Ginny please…" She heard herself saying._

"_Please what?" _

_She could feel the warmth of Ginny's breath on her neck._

"_Please…make love to me." Hermione surprised herself with the words that had escaped her lips, but she was finding it difficult to think, her body purely reacting. Her breathing was erratic, her chest was heaving, and her body felt like it was on fire as she felt Ginny's teeth scrape against the lobe of her ear, Ginny's hands roaming over her body. _

"_Please Ginny, don't stop…Ginny…Ginny….Ginny…"_

"Ginny!" Hermione cried out. Her eyes opened, pulling her back to reality. This wasn't good. She didn't think she could handle it if Ginny was back in her life. What would it be like to actually see her again?

Her heart began to race at the thought. She didn't know what to expect once Ginny walked through those doors.

Since returning to Hogwarts, she had gone out of her way to avoid one hallway in particular, even if it meant arriving at her destination much later.

She dragged herself off the floor and stood, unwillingly forcing herself through the castle, her steps taking her to the place she had long avoided. The hallway littered with shelves and trophy cases was an impressive one, if you were into that sort of thing. Smiling pictures of students from varying houses danced along photographs, thrusting shiny trophies into the air in victory. She didn't need to search to know exactly where it was, her feet just somehow took her there.

She didn't know how she would feel once she came face to face with Ginny again, but just seeing her picture – her smiling face looking right back at her - the smile she spent so many nights longing to be the recipient of – made her heart melt and break simultaneously. She felt a storm of emotions raging within her – longing, hurt, warmth and pain, anticipation and devastation. She may have seen her thousands of times before while in school and it may have felt like ages since she last saw her, but every time she looked at her, it still felt like the first time. Every time, whether in person or from a far, she always stole her breath away.

How would she be able to resist her? What would she say to her after all this time? After everything they had been through…what if she hated her? The way things were left between them was so unresolved, so many things left unspoken.

They just kind of…faded. But it felt to her then, in that moment, as she allowed herself to go back in time and think of Ginny again, that her desire never burned out.


	2. Chapter 2

The sky was beginning to darken like a shadow over the Hogwart's Express as dusk approached.

Ginny Weasley sat in one of the end carriages of the train, one she shared solely with herself. Throughout the journey, she had watched as eager first-years ran by, excitement in their voices as they guessed which house they might be sorted into. How fitting, Ginny thought, that her return to Hogwarts would feel in some ways like her very first trip there. It felt like a new beginning all over again, a new chapter in her life. Ginny was luckier than most after the end of the war, having survived physically unscathed. Her athletic ability allowed her to lose herself in the world of Quidditch and she instantly found a place on the Holyhead Harpies as their newest chaser. Success came even quicker for her and for once, it seemed like life was going to be easy – just train, practice, and play. What more could a person ask for than having a career doing something they loved? Still being in her prime, Ginny had a lot to look forward to, until one day, in a game competing for the championship, one hard bludger to the back of her neck sent her dreams spiraling away.

Ginny sighed and pushed the window open, allowing some of the cool fall breeze to enter the cabin. She inhaled deeply and immediately felt invigorated. There was just something about the autumn air – the crispness, the smell, the way that it ignited all of the senses that made her feel like she had just been woken from a long sleep. It was the perfect time for a new beginning. Though she was sad to leave her teammates behind, she was very grateful to Professor McGonagall for giving her a new opportunity. Her world might have changed, but she still had Quidditch at the focal point, which was something she always found comforting throughout her years, regardless of the many obstacles she had to overcome. She just hoped that she had a knack for being a teacher. Unfortunately, while a student, she spent more time trying to evade teachers and rebel against the Ministry of Magic in her final year than follow the rules. She hoped she could be the kind of teacher her students respected and needed. For the first time, Ginny could feel doubt within herself.

There was a loud thud as the sliding door to the cabin across the aisle was slammed shut. Two young girls, possibly fifth-years huddled next to each other whispering and giggling. Ginny's eyes met there's for a moment and she smiled at them. They turned back to their private discussion and Ginny's face fell. The scene was one she was very familiar with. She remembered all too well being just like one of those girls. It had usually been exciting for her when she returned for a new semester. She was able to see her friends, most importantly a certain brunette, and knew they had an entire year ahead together. Well, every year except for her last – the one she attended alone while Hermione and the boys had left her behind. She could feel the loneliness encasing her again and was surprised how easily it all came back to her. It was the reason she decided to not come back for her seventh year after the war – because she wasn't sure she could face it or the unpleasant emotions that accompanied those memories. Yet here she sat now, a successful and famous Quidditch star fallen from grace scared to face her past.

She licked her lips and swallowed hard, trying to muster the Gryffindor courage she knew she had deep within. Like a magnet, the cold wind chilled her lips as she inhaled and she felt herself jump a bit. Instinctively, she brought her fingers to her mouth and held them there, remembering the first time she ever felt something so electric.

"_I wish there was going to be another Yule Ball this year." Ginny lamented, stretching her feet across her bed at Grimmauld Place, and resting them in Hermione's lap._

"_Ginny! I am not a footstool to your stinky feet!" Hermione exclaimed, yet Ginny took note that she made no effort to shoo her away._

"_Hey, my feet are not stinky! You probably smell Ron's socks in the next room over."_

_Both girls giggled and Ginny noticed Hermione's laughter stop as she struck a more serious tone._

"_I'm not upset there won't be another dance. For a night that was supposed to be grandiose, it was rather boring and incredibly disappointing."_

"_Boring? But Hermione, you went with Viktor Krum! You got to be the center of attention for an evening, all eyes were on you, and how could they not be? You were gorgeous!"_

_Hermione's cheeks flushed at the compliment as she tried to hide her face. Ginny pulled herself up to a sitting position, preventing Hermione from taking refuge behind her feet. She leaned forward and grabbed the older girl around the waist and pulled her in front of her so they were facing. Her hands rested on Hermione's thighs as if it were second nature. _

"_So why was that night so boring? Come on - tell me all the juicy details!"_

_Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. "There were no juicy details, nothing special, and maybe other people thought I was the center of attention, but I certainly wasn't the center of Viktor's. He seemed to be more interested in checking out his own reflection in the ice swan sculpture. As for juicy details, there was one, but it was the wrong, unpleasant kind of juicy." _

_Hermione cringed and Ginny laughed further, poking her in the side and tickling Hermione until she urged her to stop because she couldn't breathe anymore._

"_Ok, alright! I will tell you if you just permit me to breathe, woman! Ironically enough, that was what Viktor had deprived me of as well. Honestly, do all guys kiss like they are a Saint Bernard attacking your face while trying to give you CPR?"_

_It was now Ginny's turn to roll over in laughter. "Well, I guess that accounts for the juicy – or rather – slobber factor of the evening. And here I thought he was supposed to be Prince Charming with all the fuss."_

_Hermione's face fell. "I thought so too – at least I hoped so. I thought for once, it could be special – that I could feel special. But my first kiss just turned out to be very cold, numb, and…ordinary. I guess I was foolish to build such a thing up to begin with anyway."_

_Hermione started to turn away as Ginny cupped her face in her hands, bringing Hermione back to face her. "You are special, very special. And you, Hermione Granger, are no fool. You are the brightest witch of our age so you shouldn't let some Saint Bernard man with a premature beard and drooling problem deter you!"_

_Silence fell at the end of Ginny's words and both girls broke into a fit of laughter again. _

"_And by Merlin's beard we will find you your Prince Charming after all, m'lady, and he shall sweep you off your gorgeous feet!" Ginny exclaimed, raising her arms in a grand sweeping gesture. _

"_You mean gorgeous, as in unlike your stinky ones?" Hermione teased and ducked as a pillow was sent flying toward her head. _

"_Apparently, only princesses such as yourself don't have stinky feet. The rest of us lowly commoners must suffer." Ginny managed to squeeze out between fits of laughter._

"_Princesses!" Hermione exclaimed as her announcement almost sent Ginny falling clear off the bed in surprise. "I want to be kissed just like the princesses in the stories my mom used to tell me as a child. I want to be Cinderella or Snow White or…Sleeping Beauty!"_

_Ginny stared back at Hermione's expression of glee, a look of confusion etched on her own face._

"_Oh come on Ginny, Sleeping Beauty? From the fairytale!"_

_Ginny just shook her head again. "I wouldn't know any Muggle fairytales."_

"_Oh, well that was the best, just the best! It's my absolute favorite."_

"_Will you tell it to me?" Ginny asked, and Hermione looked as though she was going to melt at the soft, shy manner in which Ginny presented her request. She was eager to share her favorite fairytale with her best friend and hoped Ginny enjoyed it just as much as she did._

"_Why don't I show you? We can act it out, it'll be great! I used to act out fairytales with my stuffed animals when I was a little girl. It can be just like that. I'll tell you what to do and you just go along with it, ok?_

"_Hmm, Hermione giving orders - sounds about right." Ginny teased and quieted again after Hermione threw a pillow of her own in her direction. The thought of a tinier Hermione playing with her stuffed animals and bossing them around was too adorable. "Fine, I'll be good, just tell me what to do."_

"_Ok, you are Prince Charming and – "_

"_Wait, why am I Prince Charming? Why can't I be Sleeping Beauty?"_

"_Because, Ginny, this is my fairytale and I am supposed to be the princess, remember?"_

"_Well you certainly are acting like one…"_

"_What was that, Weasley?"_

"_Nothing…m'lady. So what is my motivation here? Where is my grand steed? I do get a grand steed, right?"_

"_Your motivation is to rescue the Sleeping Beauty, which will be me. And no, you don't need a grand steed to get into character."_

"_But…why not? Don't you think it makes me more convincing and charming to ride in on a white horse? I saw that once during one of your moving photographs in the big box. I am trying to get into character here. So I want a steed. No steed, then no Miss. Prince Charming." Ginny stated and crossed her arms for emphasis._

_Hermione sighed and tried to suppress a giggle, not wanting to allow Ginny the pleasure of knowing she found her amusing. _

"_Fine, you can have a grand steed. Here…" Hermione said as she scooped up Crookshanks in her arms and set the large ginger cat in front of Ginny, grinning._

_Ginny rolled her eyes as the cat meowed at her and hopped down to her feet, rubbing against the side of her legs. Hermione lay down on the bed and explained to Ginny how she was supposed to be under a spell and only Prince Charming could save her. _

"_Ok, so Prince Charming will ride in on his grand steed and rescue Sleeping Beauty from her deep slumber." Hermione explained placing extra emphasis on grand steed._

_Ginny picked up Crookshanks and carried him towards Hermione, dropping him intentionally on her stomach with a thud, a mischievous grin on her face._

'_Ouch! Prince Charming does not drop a heavy cat on the princess to waken her, Ginny! Didn't you get the part where he is supposed to be charming, not a pain in the butt?"_

"_That's because Prince Charming probably has an actual steed and not a picky princess to deal with. Aren't you supposed to be cursed or whatever? Now shush!" _

_Hermione finally obliged, trying hard to not laugh and make herself into a convincing Sleeping Beauty._

_Ginny stood over her and looked down at the beautiful girl beneath her. Hermione may not have been a real princess, but she certainly was a Sleeping Beauty to Ginny. She assumed this was the part in the story where her character was supposed to kiss the girl because it seemed Hermione was biting her lip in anticipation. She was even surer that any moment, Hermione's eyes would open and their little game would be done. But Hermione's eyes remained closed and Ginny noticed her breathing had become heavier. She wondered if Hermione was lying there, hoping Ginny would in fact kiss her. Moments passed and she wasn't sure just how long she stood there because she was too enamored with the beauty beneath her. _

_She reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind Hermione's ear. She saw the older girl's body jump slightly in reaction, but she remained in character. Her fingers remained touching Hermione's face, trailing down her cheekbone and toward her lips. She could feel her own body shaking. Her thumb lightly caressed Hermione's pink lips, tracing them, lingering above, just barely toughing her. She lowered her face toward Hermione's, to where her fingers had been moments before and hesitated. She could feel her warm breath against her lips as she lingered there. Softly, she grazed her top lip against Hermione's bottom lip, and to her complete shock and amazement, felt hands on her shoulders, pushing her body closer. Ginny's eyes snapped open when she felt the full force of Hermione's lips against hers, then closed almost instantly as she could feel herself giving in completely. The world was spinning around her as she softened further into submission. Never had she imagined her body could become so ignited as if at any moment, they would melt together into a world where only the two of them existed. _

_She pulled Hermione closer, softly moaning her name against her lips. "Hermione…Mione…"_

"Hermione…" Ginny whispered, and was shocked to find herself back in the cabin on the train, the snack trolley clattering by, pulling her from the past.

She had been gripping her suitcase and finally released her hold, trying to calm herself. She took several deep breaths, attempting to convince herself that her daydreams into the past had nothing to do with her return to Hogwarts.

Ginny Weasley had never been more wrong in her life.


	3. Chapter 3

There is no sight on Earth as magnificent as the majestic, looming castle of Hogwarts at night. Its tiny lights danced in the windows like flames from a distance, casting its reflection on the lake below. Even as an adult, Ginny still found herself breathless.

She had opted to walk from the station at Hogsmeade, even though it had made her late and had surely caused her to miss the sorting ceremony. There was something within her that caused her to hesitate in her return. She wanted to savor it, and at the same time, delay it, still unsure of what kind of affect the place would have on her. Walking through the gates again felt odd. The last time she was here, a war was fought, and at that time, the castle had seemed so wounded by the events that she wondered if it would ever truly recover. But Hogwarts was strong and had been rebuilt and was just as magical as always. If you were unacquainted with the devastating events that took place here years prior, you would have been none the wiser now. Few traces of evidence remained of those days, except for the memories etched forever in the minds of those who bore witness. Ginny pushed the giant door open and paused as it creaked loudly, listening as it echoed down the corridor. She knew she was very late when she heard only silence coming from the Great Hall. She continued on her way, up the several staircases it took to navigate throughout her journey to the Headmistress's office. Professor McGonagall was waiting for her, as if she had been standing in the same spot for hours awaiting her return, looking every much as the castle did – unchanged by time.

"Good evening, Ms. Weasley, or shall I now say, Professor Weasley?" The older witch smiled, and it gave Ginny comfort to see the familiar face of the Gryffindor leader once again. The "professor" part was something she was going to have to get used to.

"Good evening, Headmistress. I'm sorry I'm late, but I wanted to have some time to get accustomed to being back. It has been so long, but Hogwarts seems very much like how I remember it…how I like to remember it." Ginny smiled shyly, worried McGonagall was going to reprimand her for being late.

"Sometimes, Ms. Weasley, the more time that passes, the more things remain the same. I have found through my many years that certain things can even be strong enough to go untouched by time altogether. But speaking of things remaining the same, I think it will comfort you to know that you will come across more similarities, including some familiar faces."

Ginny began to feel anxious despite the reassuring look McGonagall was giving her. She wasn't sure who was also at Hogwarts, but she hoped the familiar faces would be welcome ones.

"Ms. Lovegood was simply ecstatic when I told her of your return. She has been hunting down some new creature between her classes – the Gulping Plimey I believe she was calling it – and mentioned how lovely it would be to have your assistance. She's a very…spirited young woman, though sometimes I do wonder how wise of a staffing appointment that was…" McGonagall's words trailed off and she looked concerned. Ginny suppressed a giggle, imaging Luna chasing after an imaginary creature and knowing that if she had to choose anyone to be back at Hogwarts with her, it would be none other than Luna. The eccentric witch always did know how to put a smile on her face.

"Well nevertheless, it is good to see you smiling again. I know you and Ms. Lovegood have always been close, but I have another staff member who I'm sure will make your smile grow brighter. Ms. Granger has been our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who I am very proud to say, has kept the position for several years now. If anyone was meant to break the curse on the post, it certainly was her." McGonagall announced, beaming with pride in admiration of one of her favorite former pupils.

Ginny could feel the air being knocked from her as if someone had blindsided her. McGonagall said the one name Ginny did not want to hear. She would have preferred the Headmistress tell her Draco Malfoy and all of the Slytherins combined were back at Hogwarts than Hermione. At least she knew how to handle them, at least she knew what to expect. But after so many years and so much between them, Ginny only knew that from this point forward, her new life at Hogwarts would entail expecting the unexpected.

The next morning, Ginny found it very difficult to get out of bed. After getting very little rest she wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over her head and remain there. For a moment, she entertained the notion and bunch up as many blankets as she could and pulled them over her until she became one with the mass of fabric. She lay curled up for a few moments, darkness surrounding her and thought of everything she had been through and all she had overcome from her years at Hogwarts as a student, to an adult. Realizing how childish she was acting - instead of as a grown adult, who just so happened to now be a teacher as well a Gryffindor for that matter - she sighed heavily and threw the blankets upward in one quick motion and dragged herself out of bed. If she could face Tom Riddle in a dairy as a young girl and then stand by her friends as a teenager to face Voldemort again, then surely she could handle Hermione Granger…at least she hoped.

At the Quidditch pitch, she found difficulty in dragging out the equipment for her first flying lesson. She not only wanted to teach students how to fly, but wanted to explain the basic fundamentals of Quidditch in hope of providing extra incentive for her students to have fun and succeed. She didn't quite realize how much of a handful setting everything up would be or how much her neck and back would begin to hurt. There was a reason she was unable to keep playing professionally, and that reason was making itself painfully apparent at the moment. Finally, she was able to take a step back and sit down as she waited for the students to come down from breakfast. She had been so excited and anxious to teach her first class it didn't even occur to her she could have set up most of the things for her lessons by using magic. Between her anticipation of teaching and dread of seeing Hermione again she didn't know what was going on in her head anymore and wondered how she was even going to be able to teach a class properly. She whacked herself on the forehead with her hand and muttered aloud, "Smart thinking, Weasley…get it together."

She looked up as she heard approaching footsteps. A large group of first-years ranging from nervous to excited were suddenly upon her. Deciding it was probably not the best impression to greet one's students with a teacher who was sitting on the ground and hitting her own head, she sprung to her feet and tried to provide her most confident and welcoming smile. As the morning class progressed, Ginny became more confident in McGonagall's reasons for hiring her. About half of her class had taken to their brooms and were hovering – albeit slightly – off the ground. One poor Ravenclaw girl was struggling with her broom and hopped off of it, glaring at it as if it were evil. Ginny tried to suppress as chuckle as the girl reminded her of a certain person she knew who also despised flying.

"_I simply cannot fathom why those boys would prefer running around on their brooms all afternoon and wasting time when they could be studying. I have already read all of my books twice and Harry and Ron haven't even cracked a page. The new school year is only a few days away!" Hermione exclaimed, tossing her book on the desk in Ginny's room and stomping over to sit on the bed._

_Ginny was standing at the window, watching Harry and Ron pass out the front gate of The Burrow, broomsticks in hand. She giggled to herself quietly, not wanting to anger Hermione further._

"_Oh come on, all work and no play is never a good thing. You have been studying since you got here. It would do you good to relax and have a bit of fun every once in a while."_

"_Didn't you hear me – the new semester is only –". Hermione's words became muffled and were cut off when Ginny placed one finger over her lips._

"_I don't want to hear another word out of you – not one peep!"_

"_But -"_

_Before Hermione could protest any further, she felt herself being pulled forward as Ginny had taken hold of her hands and was dragging her from the bed. She trailed behind Ginny as they made their way down the stairs, hands linked, as the older witch glanced back toward the room where her book was sitting patiently on the desk. Knowing she couldn't fight Ginny once she set her mind to something, she let out a small whimper of defeat._

"_Don't pout, Mione, even though it is adorable when you do so. I promise I will make this more than worth your while." Ginny looked back at Hermione and smiled at the furrow of her brow and pout on her face knowing she was accurate in saying a pouting Hermione was adorable indeed._

_Once they were outside, Ginny had expected Hermione to release her hold on her hand, but was surprised to find their fingers still entwined. She slowed her pace to a more leisurely stroll, savoring their closeness as she picked up her broom, drawing some looks of protest from the brunette who began to open her mouth. Ginny promptly reached over and shut Hermione's mouth closed, shaking her finger at her and smiling._

"_Not one peep, remember?"_

_The pair made their way through the gate of The Burrow, past the area where Harry and Ron could be heard. She led Hermione to a more secluded, open area surrounded by trees where the beginnings of autumn foliage were starting to make their change. The tall, full tress with their colorful leaves reached toward the sky and the setting sun in the distance created a stunning scene, though nothing compared to the beauty of Hermione in Ginny's eyes. She stopped abruptly and hopped onto her broom, pulling Hermione's linked hand toward her. She could feel the hesitation and uncertainty from the older witch. _

"_Mione, please - trust me. I'd never let any harm come to you."_

_Slowly, Hermione shuffled toward Ginny and before she knew it, Ginny could feel the warmth of the older witch's body pressed behind hers, clinging to her closely. She was distracted for a moment, feeling Hermione's warm breath tickling her neck and almost forgot what she was supposed to do next. She knew she couldn't fall off into daydreams though, not with Hermione trusting her to keep her safe. She knew she needed to pay attention despite how alluring it would be to become lost in the sensations of their close proximity. _

"_Alright, good. Now I am going to kick off the ground a bit and hover –"_

"_What?!" Hermione shouted, panicking. "Off of the ground? Oh, Ginny…can't we just sit here like this. This is nice, sitting is nice. Having both feet on the ground is nice."_

_Ginny smiled at the way Hermione sounded like a small child in her plea. Even though the brunette was older than she was, Ginny felt like she wanted to protect Hermione and keep her safe forever._

"_People don't just sit on brooms. They were made for flying. I told you I would keep you safe, Mione. I always will." She could feel Hermione smile against her and felt her snuggle in closer, but she could begin to feel her body shaking as well. _

"_Do you trust me?"_

_There was a small nod and Ginny knew if Hermione was ever going to be close to ready, then now would be the time. She gently kicked off the ground, carefully allowing herself to rise into the air. She could feel the cool breeze around her as she saw a kaleidoscope of leaves dancing in the wind around her. She had been blessed with the ideal autumn day to show Hermione the special sight she had up until this point reserved for only herself. Higher and higher she rose into the air until she was adjacent to the very tops of the trees, looking down the valley below. Her timing could not have been more perfect as the sun was just now meeting the horizon, about to dip below, casting a bright orange light over the land. _

"_Hermione…" Ginny whispered. She didn't hear anything at first except a faint sound that was barely audible. She turned her head around as far as she could and saw that Hermione's eyes were closed shut. _

"_Hermione, it's beautiful, please look."_

_Ginny knew the exact moment when the older witch finally opened her eyes because there was a loud gasp and she felt Hermione's arms cling tightly around her waist as if she were holding onto her for dear life. _

"_I'm going to fall!"_

"_You're not going to fall, I got you." Ginny said, as she held her hand over Hermione's arms, the other gripped firmly to the broom._

"_Ginny Weasley, how dare you take me up this high! There is absolutely no way you can guarantee my safety or that I will not fall. And it is such a long way down…" Hermione peered to her side and looked as though she would faint._

"_Hermione, I told you that you would be safe. Here we are, sitting here nice and safely enjoying a gorgeous view. Even if somehow you did fall by sticking your nose over the side too far and peering down, I assure you, I would catch you."_

_There was silence as Ginny felt Hermione shifting back against her body. Hermione rested her chin on Ginny's neck and looked straight ahead into the spectacular sight of The Burrow and surrounding land lit up by the setting sun. At this height, it looked like the two of them were the only souls for several miles. Even Hermione had to agree it was a breathtaking view. As the sun sighed, dipping under the horizon it took with it the glow over the land. Ginny descended along with the shadow and before Hermione realized it, her feet were safely touching the ground again. Ginny turned and looked at her, worried she might be scolded._

"_Ginny Weasley, there are so many things I would like to say to you right now! How dare you be so reckless and carefree! That view was simply gorgeous! But I still could have fallen! That was the most fantastic and freeing experience I ever had in my life! But I still could have slipped and there is nothing you could have done about it! I can't believe we actually just did that! Don't you dare do something to me like that ever again!" _

"_Fair enough, Hermione. I won't put you in such a perilous, fantastic situation ever again. And for the record, I still stand by my claim that I would never let you fall."_

"_How can you be so confident of that? You have no way of being sure."_

"_Because I am sure that I would never, ever let go of you."_

Ginny heard a loud crash that made her snap to attention. The same skeptical Ravenclaw girl was now lying on the ground, sniffling, with her broom bent beneath her. Ginny rushed to her side to check on the girl, noting her first class was not going as well as her broom ride with Hermione had gone. She wondered if McGonagall was watching her now and if she saw her student fall and hoped that wasn't the case. Even still, Ginny could feel eyes upon her…

Hermione leaned against the window, a pair of binoculars in her hands. She hoped from the height of her office, people below could not see her staring out over the grounds. She didn't want to give herself away and imagined how foolish she must look right now, but she didn't care. She heard from McGonagall that Ginny had come in late last night and was desperate to see her. As she had scoured the grounds for the redhead, she noticed in the process that as Ginny moved about, she seemed to be in some kind of discomfort. The thought of Ginny being in pain greatly upset her and she could feel her heart melt in sympathy. Aside from her visible discomfort however, Hermione was not blind to the fact that Ginny still remained a stunning beauty. Time had certainly been kind to the younger, athletic witch. Standing at her window and hiding under cover, Hermione felt it was wrong to be glimpsing Ginny from a distance without her knowledge, studying her curves and watching as the wind swept her long, beautiful red hair off her shoulders. The sight was enough to make Hermione shiver.

"How in the world did I ever let something so beautiful out of my sight for even a second?" Hermione wondered aloud, peering further toward the glass in effort to get as close as possible to the younger witch. She saw Ginny rush to some unfortunate student who had fallen off her broom and was sent tumbling to the ground. Ginny had been quick to get to her and was helping her up, attempting to console her. A few moments later, the girl was back on her broom, hovering over the ground safely. Hermione smiled to herself thinking how it was just like Ginny to do anything she could to get someone back on a broom. Her thoughts went to the time Ginny had done the same for her. It was a day she always remembered, for several reasons. It was a day she learned to conquer a fear she had, which was something she held onto in years to come when she needed courage. When faced alone with Bellatrix Lestrange, breaking into a vault at Gringott's, entering the Ministry of Magic in disguise or helping fight the final battle, Hermione drew on the flying experience for strength. It was the day she knew that if she never gave up and refused to let fear hinder her, she could overcome any obstacle.

That was the day she believed Ginny would always be there for her. That someone in this world cared enough for her to keep her safe and how beauty could be found when releasing fear and finding freedom.

"Why did I ever let her go?" Hermione lowered the binoculars and sighed.

"Yes why did you? But more importantly, why does the why in anything really matter?"

Hermione jumped, the binoculars fell to the floor as she turned around, her face red, and she saw Luna Lovegood staring back at her, head titled to the side.

"What are those?" Luna asked, pointing to the binoculars. "Are they some kind of special looking glass device? Oh! Did you spot a Gulping Plimey with them?"

"I – I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked, flustered.

"A Gulping Plimey. It's a –"

"No, I don't care to know what a Gulping Plimey is, Luna." Hermione cut her off rudely. "I meant what did you mean about why does the why matter? Of course the why in everything matters! I mean, of course the reasons matter."

"Sometimes we focus on the wrong things and miss the most obvious ones glaring right in front of us. So many people just don't know how to…look properly." Luna explained, her eyes wandering off as if she saw something in the corner of the room Hermione could not. "And sometimes we ask ourselves the wrong questions, instead of the ones we should be asking. Such as, if Ginny is back here now, then why are you up here with a looking glass, hiding, while she is still so far away?"

"I'm not hiding." Hermione scoffed, surely Luna could not understand. As if reading her thoughts Luna turned back to the brunette. "Why don't you tell me what happened, Hermione?" Luna asked gently.

Hermione did not want to tell Luna what happened. She didn't think Luna, of all people, could help her. And even more so, she didn't want to relive the events that had unfolded between her and Ginny. But she told her anyway, because she was so filled with the emotions stirring within her since Ginny's return that she had to get them out. Even if release meant confiding in none other than Luna Lovegood.

Hermione told Luna about the war she had waged within herself. About the choice she had to make between leaving with Harry on his quest to destroy Horocruxes or to stay in the arms of the woman she loved. She told her how she couldn't bring herself to tell Ginny before she left and instead, slipped away. How she intended to tell her first, but every time she saw her face, and the desire in Ginny's eyes for her to always be there, she faltered. She could never find the words. Then the attack at Bill and Fleur's wedding occurred and Hermione had to vanish – not knowing what would become of Ginny or if she would see her again –only being able to see the hurt in Ginny's eyes as she disappeared. How when she finally was able to come back to Hogwarts, when war was crashing down around them and all she wanted to do was run back into Ginny's arms. The only thing she found instead were cold eyes staring back at hers. She had spent every night in so many dark and lonely places during their journey, not knowing where she was going next or what the trio was doing, but all the while dreaming of Ginny, hoping her love would be waiting for her. It was her dreams that kept her pushing on, reminding her of what she was fighting for. But Ginny wasn't waiting. Ginny was cold and distant and barely looked at her when they finally reunited. She wanted to reach out to her – to pull her close again – but the look Ginny had given her froze her to ice. She felt so foolish for having spent endless days and nights longing for someone who did not welcome her return. She couldn't understand it, but she knew she had been foolish to think they could pick up right where they left off. She didn't know what Ginny had endured at Hogwarts, but it was clear to Hermione that Ginny had moved away from her. So she did all she could do – she fought out the war with her friends, and when it came to a close, she closed off that chapter of her life and made every attempt to not look back.

She could feel tears threatening again as she finished the end of her tale. Luna looked at her with compassion and understanding. For a moment, Hermione felt closer to Luna after having shared her tale with someone, no longer keeping it all bottled inside.

"Hermione…" Luna said, taking her hand in her own. "You view everything so logically, so objectively. Rarely are things in life as they appear on the surface. We have to dive deeper, dipping below the surface. You spend so much time trying to find the logic and reason in things that you fail to see what lies beneath. You are the brightest witch of our age when it comes to what can be read and studied, and forgive me Hermione, but you cannot see the things that exist beyond the black and white. Things are not always as they appear. "

Hermione sniffled, trying very hard to fight back the pouring of tears. She wasn't sure what Luna was trying to tell her, but it sounded like nonsense. How was Luna really going to understand? How did she know what Hermione was talking about or how she felt?

"Logic is everything – it always has been. We live our lives based on observation and drawing conclusions from what our senses tell us. What truth is there if it cannot be seen, displayed, proven and supported with facts? Tell me Luna, what do you know of that is more true and infallible than logic?"

"Love, Hermione. Love is all that matters and it is the only thing that can defy your precious logic. Do you still love Ginny?"

Hermione didn't even need to think, analyze, or hesitate for a moment.

"I never stopped…" She caught herself after she voiced it aloud, but it was too late for the words had already escaped her lips before she even realized it.

Luna smiled. For being such a bright witch, Hermione could be rather clueless at times.

"Then what are you waiting for? It simply isn't the – what is it you say – logical thing to do. Unless of course, you were simply looking for something as fleeting as the Gulping Plimey and nothing more this whole time."

"Of course not." Hermione scoffed.

Luna took another look at Hermione's binoculars and then glanced out the window.

"No, of course not."


	4. Chapter 4

It was another beautiful day as Ginny strode across the grounds of the castle. The sun was rising into the sky and birds could be heard chirping as she made her way to the pitch. She stopped suddenly in her tracks, shocked at the sight before her. Dozens of broomsticks were neatly lined up, the trunk containing all of the Quidditch supplies opened and sorted appropriately before her.

"Who could have done this?" She wondered aloud, turning in circles as she surveyed the grounds to see who else was out there, but Ginny realized she was alone. Her thoughts immediately went to the Headmistress – the only other person who knew of her injury was the most probable to help her – but it just didn't seem likely. She tried to imagine the older witch setting things up and found the notion ridiculous. She was hit with a moment of gratitude for whoever her helper might be, but then frowned at the feeling of helplessness the act implied. Noting she now had more time before her first class, she decided to head off to the Great Hall for breakfast. Maybe a cold glass of pumpkin juice would improve her spirits. At this thought she hesitated, realizing that if she went to the Great Hall, she would stand a good chance of running into Hermione. She had intentionally gone out of her way to avoid the place her first day back, but knew she couldn't entertain avoidance forever. She watched her shadow loom before her as the sun rose behind, casting the outline to larger heights. The sight gave her a rather ominous feeling.

She felt like a child as she approached the grand doors to the Great Hall. She caught herself popping her head around the corner, peeking through the doorway and darting back behind it again, hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain brunette before she was seen. She knew she was terrified to see the older witch again, but the excitement kept building up within her each time she darted back and forth. Realizing she must look ridiculous, she finally gave up and walked slowly into the hall, trying to blend in behind a crowd of Ravenclaws. Luckily, they all had their noses in books and she was able to slip in slowly without drawing any attention to herself. She took her time surveying the long table at the front where teachers often sat. Her eyes passed over younger and older witches and wizards, some balding, some with long hair and beards practically down to their feet, some barely able to see over the table, some cheery and some grumpy, but the beautiful brunette was nowhere to be found. She took a seat at the end of the table, hoping and dreading Hermione would show.

She poured a glass of pumpkin juice and stared at the plates of food filling before her, not feeling the least bit hungry. Her stomach started to do flips knowing that at any second, Hermione could walk back into her life. She wondered if Hermione had changed at all and if so, how. Though one thing Ginny was certain of was that no matter what changes there were, she would always be beautiful.

"Aren't you hungry?"

Ginny jumped at the sound from behind her. She didn't need to turn her head to know the source of the voice, but was a bit more relaxed when she saw the smiling face of Luna Lovegood. She rose from her seat and hugged the blonde to her, thankful to be able to take comfort in her presence. There was just something about Luna that provided an instant soothing affect. For a moment, Ginny felt much less alone.

"It's so good to see you, Luna."

"It's always good to see you, Ginny. I've missed you so. Hogwarts hasn't been the same without you. However sometimes, I find my shoes have gone missing again. It really brings me back to those days at the end of term. But just like before, they always turn up, eventually." Luna smiled, nonchalantly. They sat down together as Luna began piling food onto her plate, noting that Ginny still had not touched a crumb.

"Are you waiting for something?" Luna asked, though she did not look at Ginny, or at her plate, but at the door, guessing at what her friend was anxious about. "She rarely takes meals out here, you know. She prefers her quarters where she can keep a watchful eye on her books and notes. She is the same as ever – work, work, work. "

"Oh I don't – I'm not sure who you are referring to."

"Yes you are, Ginny. You look like you are suffering from a Wrackspurt attack, and since I can clearly see there are none floating around you, I know your behavior is due to something else. Most likely a certain brunette floating around inside your head instead, perhaps?" Luna replied, as she stuffed some oatmeal into her mouth, facing Ginny and blinking several times, checking once more behind her ears for good measure. Ginny looked like she wanted more than anything to just change the subject.

"So what are you doing here anyway, Luna? What subject are you teaching?"

"Care of Magical Creatures." Luna stated between spoonfuls of oatmeal.

"But what about Hagrid - is he no longer teaching?"

"Dragons." Luna beamed.

"Dragons? What about them?"

"Yes, dragons. A colony of them, in Romania. He writes me often telling me stories of this one little guy in particular who likes to light his beard on fire – such a charming little fellow."

Ginny started at her and blinked a few times, trying to digest this odd news. "So wait, Hagrid is in Romania….living with a colony of dragons?"

"Of course." Luna stated matter-of-factly.

What Luna said did rather make sense, given the character of the former groundskeeper. It sounded like Hagrid was finally living his dream lifestyle after all. Ginny sank back into her chair and poured some cereal. She dodged Hermione again, yet she couldn't help but feel disappointed. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep up this game of worrying where Hermione was every time she walked through the castle. She had to get the jump on this and face seeing her. She was convinced the longer she drew this out, the harder it would be. Maybe if she had some more time to prepare before actually confronting Hermione, it might give her the courage she needed.

Resigned to the fact she wasn't going to see Hermione this morning, she started to make her way back to the pitch for her first class of the day. She didn't have a crowd of students to follow on her way out this time so she drew more attention while walking alone. A small group of Gryffindors bombarded her from nowhere when she reached the hallway, holding up quills and parchment, begging for autographs. Ginny smiled and obliged, taking time to personalize each signature.

The brunette watched from a safe distance away, smiling affectionately at the redhead and her group of fans. The look of surprise on Ginny's face when the group came rushing toward her and yelling was priceless. Ginny looked confused by all the attention and Hermione mused that was how the younger girl was – modest of her many talents. Even despite her success and fame, Ginny never let it go to her head. It was a quality Hermione had always admired. She tried to lean closer to get a better glimpse of Ginny as more students surrounded her, hoping not to be seen.

"Oh goodness, did you find it – did you spot the Gulping Plimey?"

Hermione almost toppled over, ducking back behind the wall and faced a grinning Luna who had a suspicious glint to her eyes as if she were very much up to something. Hermione grabbed her chest as if her heart were going to burst from it. When she didn't respond, and only glared at Luna, the blonde continued.

"I see you have your little looking glass again – or were you simply planning on going sight-seeing this time? Perhaps…over the Quidditch pitch?" Luna blinked several times at Hermione and then glanced over her shoulder toward Ginny. She smiled, and then proceeded to walk away without waiting for a response, leaving a speechless Hermione staring after her. She quickly turned back to where Ginny had been, but saw the students had dispersed during the time she had spent with Luna's unwelcome distraction. She furrowed her brow and made a mental note on how the meddlesome blonde always had the worst timing.

"Lovely to see you again, _Professor_ Granger…finally."

Now Hermione was certain her heart would leap from her chest because she knew, with every fiber of her being whose voice those words belonged to. There was a moment of tension as the two pairs of eyes met. They quickly darted away, and then met again, continuing to steal glances and alternating with long observances of the floor, which they both seemed to find incredibly interesting at the moment. Ginny had seen her opportunity to get the jump on Hermione while she was talking with Luna, but now that she exhausted her courage and was standing face to face with her, she felt herself falter. Hermione laughed awkwardly, noticing the emphasis Ginny had placed on the word "Professor".

"Yes - Professor, and from what I hear, I should be referring to you as the same now."

"Oh, so you were aware?" Ginny asked, looking Hermione over. "How nice that you were so well-informed, yet I notice this information did not motivate you to a proper welcoming." She wanted to catch Hermione off guard and it seemed her tactic worked as Hermione stumbled over her words. Ginny always thought Hermione looked so cute whenever she fumbled to explain herself and getting such a knowledgeable witch to such a point was quite the feat indeed. She noticed something bulging from the pocket of Hermione's robes that she was trying desperately to conceal behind her.

"What are you hiding?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

"Oh, I – uh…Merlin's beard it is getting late! We better hurry or we will be late to our own classes!" Hermione yelled as she started to blush. She took off down the hall before Ginny could get another word in, her hand grazing Ginny's arm as she brushed past her. Ginny stared after her, confused. This meeting wasn't exactly what she had expected in all the scenarios that had run through her mind. But she knew one thing for certain - Hermione still was positively endearing when flustered.

Hermione had lied to Ginny. She didn't have a class first thing in the morning, but she needed to get away from her. Being so close to her again, and caught being off guard had rattled the older witch. She needed to find a distraction, and quickly. It was no surprise to her when her feet had taken her to her familiar haven in the library. She practically collapsed into the nearest chair, her head falling to her hands. She closed her eyes and tried to drown out the many thoughts chasing around in her brain. She had never been more grateful that McGonagall had given her a project than in that moment. She inhaled deeply and forced all other thoughts that did not concern Dementors out of her mind. She had exhausted all books on the creatures that were housed among the many shelves of the library, as well as the vast majority of books in the restricted section. She needed a new approach – one that wasn't so obvious – something she had not thought of before. Eager to focus her mind on anything that wasn't Ginny, she started randomly grabbing books from the shelves. There were books on charms, spells, potions, transfiguration, and even divination, which caused her to chuckle to herself that such magic should even be considered valid. She leafed through each book, skimming the pages and trying to absorb as much information as possible, repeating it back again in her mind as if she were entranced. The revelation hit her like a jolt of electricity while holding a book on spell crafting and she almost sent it tumbling to the floor in shock.

"Of course! How could I have not thought of it before?! Such a simple concept, though difficult, but it just might be crazy enough to work!"

She heard Madam Pince shushing her after her outburst, but for once, Hermione did not care. She knew she had to find Professor McGonagall as soon as possible. She set off to find her, leaving the pile of books askew on the table, for once, not caring to return them dutifully to the shelves.

Night was creeping up upon the castle as Ginny stood out on the edge of the astronomy tower, surveying the grounds. There were so many peaceful places where one could find themselves at Hogwarts whenever they wanted to escape and be alone with their thoughts. It was the perfect place for Ginny to take refuge, breathe in some crisp air and try to make sense of how quickly things were changing in her life. She needed it all to slow down for a second. Hermione's reintroduction into her life following her shattered career was becoming too much. Seeing the older witch again had felt like the last straw about to break her. She had managed to play it cool, but deep down she felt as though she were teetering in the midst of a storm. She tried taking deep breaths, inhaling as much of the crisp evening air as she could take and focused on the tiny ripples in the water of the lake below.

"It's so beautiful out here, when all is silent." A small voice said beside her.

Ginny smiled and opened her eyes. "You really do have a knack for popping up places at just the right time, Luna."

"People just think I pop up because no one expects me to be there, but really, I am precisely where I intend to be at all times." Luna replied, smiling back. "Most times, I think we all get a little too caught up in our own world to notice what is going on around us. And that seems to be where I get lost."

"I don't think you're lost, Luna. I think you are right where you need to be, with a friend." Ginny smiled again, her affection for her friend growing. It always did seem to her that Luna showed up precisely when she was needed.

"I noticed your reunion with Hermione was rather brief. You both ran off as if you were being chased by nargles."

"I didn't run off! Hermione ran off, not me." Ginny said defensively. "I don't run from anything."

"Perhaps not outwardly, no, but you were running from her before you even saw her. You always play at this tough façade, Ginny, and everyone talks about how brave you are. Of course you are very brave, but everyone gets scared at times, and there is nothing wrong with that. I know deep down there is more to you than the legendary master of the bat-bogey hex. I know the girl who was the first person to befriend me when everyone else turned away. So please Ginny, don't turn away from me now. I've seen your secret pain you try so hard to hide and I want you to know you aren't alone. Please tell me, what happened between you and Hermione?"

Luna placed a reassuring hand on Ginny's shoulder, letting her know she would wait as she took her time to explain, however long Ginny required. Ginny took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the lake, trying to focus it as her center to calm herself so she wouldn't fall apart.

"I thought…she was the one. Back then, even in the middle of everything horrible happening around us, I thought she was the light in the darkness. When I was with her, all the pain and hurt in the word vanished. It was like…we created this world together; just the two of us, and nothing could touch us there. But in the end, it was Hermione who vanished…" A tear started to slide down Ginny's cheek as Luna wiped it away, softly urging Ginny to continue.

"The day of Bill and Fleur's wedding – you were there – when the attack came. I was making my way over toward Hermione to ask her to dance. She was so beautiful. I remember wondering how someone so flawlessly gorgeous could exist in the same world I did. Surrounded by my family and seeing my brother so happy in love made me want nothing more than to be in her arms and hold her close. But just as I got closer, it happened. There was so much chaos and confusion and I tried to reach out to her – I tried to keep her safe – but she just looked at me, with such pain in her eyes and then…disappeared. Despite everything going on around me, all I could do was remain frozen to the spot, staring after her, wishing that at any moment she would reappear."

"I remember pulling you away Ginny, yes." Luna said. Her face fell in remembrance of the dark day Ginny spoke of. "I was very concerned something would happen to you in all that chaos. You looked so empty standing there."

Ginny nodded and sniffled. "I was. And I remained empty without her. For so long, I didn't even know how much time had passed. Do you know how it felt, Luna, to spend every day not knowing where she was, wondering what was happening to her – if I would ever see her again or if she were still alive? I spent every day waking up to a world with no Hermione in it, in a world that had lost its light. Each passing day dealing with the hell the Death Eaters put us through here; stealing any chance I could to try to hear word from the outside world, only to fall asleep each night crying myself to sleep feeling so cold and alone. She abandoned me, Luna. The one person on this Earth who you feel you were destined to be with – who you should be together with in all things, especially the darkest of times – should not abandon you!"

Ginny was yelling now, her voice echoing a bit on the tower. Luna let her continue, watching as she opened the floodgates of her heart into the fast-approaching darkness of night.

"Then one day, she just appeared. Just like that. After so much time, without explanation, Hermione was back at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron. And though my heart was overjoyed to see them all safe, I couldn't get past the hurt of being left behind. Why didn't they take me with them? I am not so incompetent that I could not have gone and fought with them, by their sides, as their friend. I would have given my last breath for any one of them!"

Tears began to fall freely now and Luna didn't even bother to stop them.

"Hermione just stood there…in front of me, and said nothing. I had dreamed of that day for so long and finally she was there. I wanted to run to her so badly and hold her close so as to never let her go again, but I couldn't move. She remained there as motionless as I did until others pulled her away to fight and there she went, vanishing again, into the crowd and out of my life."

Ginny raised her eyes toward the grounds of Hogwarts below her, looking out on the same spot where the battle was fought. "It took everything from me, Luna. The war destroyed everything I loved."

Luna could feel her heart break for her friend. She took Ginny's hand in hers, raising her head to look her in the eyes and smiled sadly. She pulled the redhead into a hug and squeezed her hand before heading down the tower stairs. Upon her descent, she whispered something in such a low voice it could barely be heard, but her words caught the wind and made their way to Ginny's ears. Alone now, Ginny glanced toward the setting sun, shielding her eyes from the sheer brilliance of its rays. Her hand involuntarily found her arm, touching the same place Hermione had touched when she brushed past her in the hallway.

The spot felt as if it were on fire. She could hear Luna's final words echoing in her thoughts.

"Even the things we believe to be destroyed may not be. Even then, new life can spring forth from the ashes. If the war proved anything it is this – that the greatest, most powerful magic in this world is love."


	5. Chapter 5

The glistening grass made a soft crunching sound beneath Hermione's feet as she walked toward the Quidditch pitch. Only in the early morning silence, when all was still across the grounds while the sun was rising could such a sound be heard. The morning dew had recently kissed the blades of green and Hermione could smell the fresh scent in the air. Soon though, all was not quite as silent as it should have been and it became clearer to Hermione as she pressed on that she was not alone this morning. A red blur could be seen up ahead, just at the destination Hermione had sought, and seeing it made her sigh and shake her head in exasperation. Somehow, Ginny had woken even earlier than Hermione and got the jump on setting up her things for class before Hermione could help her, which was something that annoyed the older witch greatly.

"Hermione? What on Earth are you doing out here so early?"

Not expecting to have been caught, Hermione found herself struggling for an explanation.

"Well…it is such a nice day and I figured on taking my usually morning stroll. "

"So…you often wake up unnecessarily early, to come outside, on a cold morning, when I know a certain bookworm would much rather be inside the library, warm and researching something? And of all places, this scenic walk takes you to…the Quidditch pitch – a sport you despise? Are you going to try telling me next that you were hoping it would rekindle your beloved memories of the game from days since passed?"

"Despise is a rather strong word." Hermione replied, wondering when Ginny had become so analytical and why she had chosen now to do so, when it clearly exposed her intentions.

"Strong, but not inaccurate." Ginny replied, looking Hermione over, trying to figure out why she had made an appearance at such an odd time. She could see Hermione was fidgeting and remembered the brunette was never good at concealing the truth.

"So I see you are all set up for class…so well ahead of time." Hermione felt agitated that Ginny had seemed to deliberately go out of her way to do things on her own and recalled how stubborn she could be at times. Ironically, it had often been one of her traits that drew her closer to the red head in the past.

"Well you should know better than anyone that being prepared is essential." Ginny remarked, eyeing Hermione more suspiciously.

"Yes, of course." Hermione made a mental note that she was going to have to find other means of helping Ginny. The younger witch was clearly in pain at times, but her pride would never allow her to accept aid from someone else. She remembered how Harry and Ron had always sought her help with homework assignments and how it annoyed her then. But now, when she wanted to help someone, she found the opposition to her aid becoming increasingly frustrating. But this was about more than Hermione winning some kind of battle with Ginny or feeling useful or not. It was about a serious problem Ginny seemed to be having and the negative effects it was having in her life. It bothered her that Ginny was being so closed-off and distant, but she couldn't really blame her. Hermione knew if she was going to get Ginny to open up at all, she had to approach this carefully. As Ginny reached down to grab a bludger, Hermione noticed a slight wince she tried to hide.

"Are those things heavy? I always thought they looked rather heavy. Here, allow me…" Hermione made to reach for the ball and relieve Ginny the burden, but was surprised how quickly it was swept away from her.

"I got it, no problem." Ginny said, tossing it into the air. When she looked upward to follow the ball downward and back into her hands she felt a sudden twinge and ended up dropping the ball to the ground. It rolled slowly to Hermione's feet and stopped.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concern etched in her face.

"Of course. Must be old age getting to me, huh? You know what they say - once you hit…your 20s…it's all downhill from there." Ginny tried to laugh it off and hoped to cover up her obvious blunder, but Hermione was too bright to fall for suck feeble excuses.

"Ginny…I can tell something is seriously wrong. I could tell since you arrived." Hermione didn't even bother trying to play any more games. She wanted to know what was wrong with the younger girl and seeing her in pain was heartbreaking.

"Since I arrived? How much have you seen of me thus far, Hermione? We haven't spoken much at all. Have you been keeping tabs on me or something?"

Hermione could feel her cheeks reddened at the prospect of being caught spying. She was surprised how quickly the tables were turned and how she was now under interrogation. She didn't want to answer any embarrassing questions as to why she followed Ginny's every movement. Her eyes darted around as she tried to think of a way to reverse the line of questioning. She wasn't supposed to be the one under fire here, Ginny was. She was relieved when a loud commotion was heard as both witches turned toward the castle to see the first small group of Gryffindors descending the steps for their flying lesson.

"Is it that time already? How convenient! I should hurry to my own class. I'm always telling my students the importance of punctuality and here I am, about to be tardy myself!"

With that, Hermione marched briskly away, Ginny staring after her, puzzled by the strangeness of their exchange. Hermione mumbled to herself as she made her way back to the castle. The words "stupid" and "complete idiot" and "bumbling fool" could be heard often as she chastised herself. There were two things that had become clearer after this recent exchange with Ginny. One thing was that speaking to the red head and being around her proved just as difficult and unnerving as Hermione had anticipated. Second, Ginny remained as stubborn and proud as always and if she was going to be of any help to her, she was going to have to find a stealthier manner of doing so. Since she had fibbed about having a class, she knew she had free time on her hands and there was no place better to spend one's free time while having a problem to solve than in the library.

Hermione poured over books on potion brewing for several minutes. Potions had never been her favorite subject, which was primarily due to having Professor Snape as a teacher and always sharing class time with Slytherins. Despite this, she knew a potion was most likely the best method to help Ginny. She was holding just the book she needed regarding balms, salves, and pain relievers when a student approached her, carrying a rolled up sheet of parchment. Hermione could tell by the elaborate, winding script the message was from the Headmistress. She placed the book in her satchel and made her way towards McGonagall's office.

Apparently, the day was going to be filled with surprises and unexpected events. She didn't anticipate seeing Ginny again so soon, yet there she was, standing in front of Professor McGonagall's desk, looking just as clueless as Hermione did as to why they were called there. The Headmistress wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

"Ms. Granger, I was hoping you could share with Ms. Weasley your recent findings into what we have been working on the past several months. I have caught her up on our predicament with the Dementors and the task I assigned to you, and I was hoping you could tell her about your proposed solution. "

Once again, Hermione was caught off guard and this time, it looked like Ginny was as well. She couldn't imagine why McGonagall would want her to relay her research to Ginny, or why it would concern her. Never one to question a superior though, she complied.

"Well…I was thinking on how Dementors have been rumored to attack in packs now, their numbers making them exponentially more powerful. I hypothesized that if Dementors can join and become more powerful together, then joined Patronuses should not only be able to match their power, but exceed and destroy them…hopefully."

Hermione felt as though the explanation sounded better when she initially told McGonagall or when it was safely locked away within her own head and wasn't so grand now that she was standing in front of Ginny, who appeared to be hanging on every word, expecting more. Both witches were staring at her and though Hermione usually thrived on being the first to offer explanation, she suddenly found herself fumbling again.

"It…has been documented that witches and wizards have each cast an individual Patronus to success against a large group of Dementors, but I have a theory that a spell cast by more than one person, joined with another, casting one unified spell instead of several would strengthen the magic and could result in more desirable outcomes, quite possibly defeating it. It would be a sort of…bond, but it would be an incredibly difficult and powerful form of magic. Each Patronus would have to join with the other. As such, I have created – or at least I think I might be able to create – a new spell specifically for this purpose."

"Wow." Ginny's mouth dropped open at the concept Hermione was proposing. Such magic would be complex indeed and only the most skilled would be able to even attempt such a feat. She stared in wonder at Hermione for a moment, her mouth still agape at the knowledge that if anyone could create such an impressive spell the likes of what she was hearing, it would be Hermione. She was nothing short of absolutely brilliant. "What would be the incantation for this spell?"

"I was thinking…Expecto Patronum Vinculum." Hermione said shyly.

"Have you attempted it yet?" Ginny was greatly intrigued. Hermione never ceased to amaze her.

"No…I just came up with the hypothesis the other day. I haven't had any time to try it out or see if this will even work."

"Of course it will." Professor McGonagall interjected, finally making her presence felt. The conversation and its implications had been so intense the two had forgotten she was still there, watching them both closely as they interacted. "I have faith in you, Hermione – in both of you."

"Excuse me, but both of us? What do you mean, Headmistress?" Hermione was even more confused now. She didn't know what McGonagall's intentions were, but she felt more anxious each passing second. She and Ginny exchanged confused glances.

"Well it shouldn't be so difficult to figure out, Ms. Granger. This spell operates on the crucial point of a bond being formed. Who else would I rather have test this hypothesis than two talented witches who are both proficient in defending the dark arts, and who also have been friends since childhood? Of anyone on staff, you two are clearly the most qualified and obvious choice. "

Hermione could feel a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wasn't sure she was going to like the direction this was headed in. She became increasingly more worried it would put her into much closer proximity to Ginny, which was somewhere she desperately wanted to be, and yet was scared to be, simultaneously. The Headmistress continued on as if she were oblivious to the apprehensive looks on both of their faces.

"I have been considering another point though – something to add to this spell to ensure the odds of success. It seems rather obvious and necessary actually that not only being in close proximity, but the act of physically touching the co-caster would be essential." The older witch finished her thought after pacing about her office and abruptly faced the two.

"Come again?" Ginny asked. "Touching? Is touching absolutely necessary?" The question slipped from her lips before she even though it through and she was both excited and nervous to hear if she was going to be forced into frequent situations of feeling Hermione close to her again. It felt like a different lifetime since she had even so much as held Hermione's hand and her heart raced at the opportunity to do so once more.

"Yes, I believe so, Ms. Weasley. Honestly, it's like you both are first years working with boys, worried about getting cooties! This is powerful magic we are talking about for a very serious problem. Anything we might be able to do to increase the success of this spell is imperative. Let's try a test, shall we?" McGonagall motioned for Ginny to come closer to Hermione so they both were facing her. She brought over an unlit candle from her desk and set it before the two. "I want you both to join hands and light this candle in unison."

Ginny took her time making her way toward Hermione. The anticipation was something she felt was about to drive her mad, yet something she also reveled in. She took a deep breath as she thought to herself how silly she was being. Her hand hung loosely at her side and it felt like she was going to have to scream the command for it to move in her mind. Finally, she gave a quick jerk of her wrist and her fingers found Hermione's, snaking around hers and holding on tightly. The feeling felt familiar and foreign at the same time and neither one knew quite what to make of it. There was an electric current running between their fingers and both took their eyes off the candle and looked down at their joined hands. Their eyes met for a brief second in a very intense stare, as if they could see a little bolt of electricity reflected in the other. The sound of McGonagall clearing her throat impatiently pulled them apart, both remembering they were being watched. They tried to focus on the candle, pouring all of their thoughts into the spell, hoping to take their mind off of the closeness and the awkwardness that it accompanied.

"Incendio."

The candle burst into a flame so massive it threatened to touch the high ceiling of the office. The flame burned so intensely it wore the candle wick down to practically nothing at all just before McGonagall extinguished the flame, smiling brightly at the both of them.

"I daresay you both are so skilled and your passion burns so brightly that you nearly set my office ablaze! What a fortunate occurrence I chose to invite you here as opposed to outside in the forest or there would be nothing left. You almost created a wildfire in this very room! I think it is more than safe to say that your combined efforts produced results far quicker and greater than if you had cast this spell solo. So this settles it then. You both will work on this spell together, and together, you will achieve something truly remarkable. I just know it!"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but then shut it immediately. She knew better than to attempt a debate with McGonagall, especially when even she had to admit to the evidence before her. The two of them could not have possibly created a more desirable result than what was just witnessed. She wasn't surprised by how well the spell had worked. She knew from the feelings she had while holding Ginny's hand that something powerful existed between them. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so alive and the feeling was something she could feel herself starving for more of, and yet terrified to seek it out again.

"Yes, I think you are right, Headmistress." Hermione conceded, knowing the truth could not be denied. She nodded to Ginny and tried to avoid her eyes as much as possible as she quickly exited the room, mumbling something about her next class beginning. Ginny remained frozen for a few more moments, pondering what had just occurred as she watched the brunette leave the room. So much had happened so quickly with very little time to process it all. This morning she had no clue she would be thrown into a situation of such magnitude with Hermione, but here she was, in another situation where her life was drastically changing again and she had no way of putting on the brakes. This was something she was familiar with, but by no means used to. She knew she was going to have to deal with it though, and let it take its course, wherever that course might lead her. There were so many unanswered questions as she finally unglued her feet from the floor and started to walk past the Headmistress. She paused and looked back hoping McGonagall would answer at least a few.

"Professor, was this your sole purpose of calling me here – to help Hermione? How did you know that I would be useful?"

The older witch smiled at her. "I had a feeling you might be useful to Ms. Granger, one way or another."

As Ginny left, she thought to herself how McGonagall was becoming more like Dumbledore, leaving a person with more questions than answers.

The day progressed slowly for both, dragging on into a mind-numbing blur as both professors found their concentration suffering while teaching. There were several times Ginny became distracted and two students almost collided on their brooms as a result. Her mind kept hanging on the spell, the flame, and McGonagall's cryptic words. Meanwhile, Hermione dropped her text book while reading a passage on boggarts aloud to her class and could not find her place once picking it up, stumbling over her words as she found herself replaying the sequence of the day's events in her head. She couldn't get over how she had felt with her hand joined with Ginny's or how electric and invigorating it had been. Her hand still pulsed from the contact and it was warm to the touch, as if they had actually lit their hands on fire and not the candle. She could sense a longing developing within her to touch Ginny again, a ravenous hunger she knew she could never satisfy. She was relived as the day came to an end, but was shocked once more to find Ginny at dinner for the first time since term began.

"Are you going to eat your food eventually, or just continue to play with it? I'm pretty sure it is already dead, as serving a live meal to the students is something McGonagall would probably frown upon. Though if you ask me, I think it would be rather entertaining." Luna asked, eyeing Hermione as she poked her plate with a fork. The brunette had been shifting the food on her plate around while deep in thought since she sat down. She wasn't very hungry and Luna drawing more attention to her was only making her more agitated. She could feel Ginny's eyes upon her and knew she was becoming red, which only intensified her blush.

"It certainly would be entertaining. Why don't you give it a go, Luna? Run around with your fork and we'll all catch up." Hermione retorted.

"My goodness, someone certainly does become grumpy when they are hungry, and you sure have had a hungry look in your eyes all morning, Hermione." Luna blinked rapidly at the look Hermione gave her in response to her comment, appearing confused at why she was becoming increasingly more aggravated.

"Come to think of it, you have been acting odd all day as well Ginny. Though it appears you appetite hasn't suffered like Hermione's has."

Ginny looked up, eyes darting back and forth between Luna and Hermione, who were now staring at her, mouth full of a large helping mashed potatoes. She hastily grabbed another spoonful, enabling herself to buy some more time before responding. She resorted to a shrug, hoping Luna would drop the subject, but Hermione's eyes stayed glued to her, studying her carefully.

"I saw you in class this afternoon and noticed a quaffle hit you square in the leg and it took you a while to even register the hit. Is that a new rule now – that players are allowed to kick the ball as well? If so, I am very sorry to say you did a rather poor job of demonstrating such." Luna remarked, grabbing the plate of mashed potatoes and helping herself to some as Ginny's mouth dropped in surprise of her distraction being called out in front of Hermione.

"It almost looked like you were distracted, Ginny. I can't imagine what in the world would have – ouch!" Luna yelled, grabbing her knee as she felt something kick her beneath the table. She stared at Ginny for a second and then dove under the table, reaching into her pockets for a moment. Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances as they heard Luna rummaging underneath the table before she popped up again, spectrespecs firmly planted on her face, causing Hermione to jump in her seat at the sight.

"Just as I suspected. I see no Gulping Plimey under the table to be responsible for biting me in the shin, so I assume that you are very much able to kick things after all, Ginny." Luna smiled at Ginny, who now looked just as embarrassed as Hermione at being caught.

Hermione sat through the rest of dinner in silence, barely touching her food. She glanced at Ginny several times to find the younger witch quickly looking away once their eyes met, her blushing face matching her red hair. Meanwhile, Luna finished her meal, grinning from ear to ear and occasionally smiling back and forth at each of them until finally wishing them both a goodnight and excused herself from the table. There were several long moments of awkward silence where Hermione could not help but find herself falling into distraction again, contemplating what Ginny might have been thinking earlier in the day, wondering if the spell had the same affect on her as well. She resigned herself to the fact she should probably eat something, and as she reached for the salt absentmindedly, she felt the same electricity as before. Her eyes snapped upward and she saw her hand on the bottle, Ginny's hand wrapped around hers on top of it. Neither let go, as if there was a force more powerful than themselves holding them together. Hermione was beginning to feel warmth spread throughout her body, the current reaching every part of her, straight to her core. She jerked her hand away when her eyes met Ginny's, an intensity burning within them the likes of which she was all too familiar with. She stood up sharply and held her hand to her chest, her breath quickened and heart raced as took one last look into Ginny's eyes and then ran from the Great Hall, not stopping until she was at her chambers.

She braced herself against the back of the door wondering if this was going to become a common occurrence for her. She couldn't believe how much of an affect one simple touch had on her. There was an ache within her she felt could never be satisfied. She wondered if she had the same affect on Ginny as well. It had been so long since she had felt this way – alive and on fire, like something was burning within her and was impossible to control trying to force its way out like some kind of caged animal. She could feel heat rising throughout her body, from her feet all the way up to her cheeks, setting every inch of her body aflame. Quickly, she ran to the shower, trying to force herself to cool off, shedding her clothing along the way and taking shelter under the streaming water, hoping to find solace there. As the water met her bare skin it seemed to do nothing to cool her down, if anything, making her feel all the more invigorated and on edge. She felt as though she could feel every droplet touching her skin as if they were Ginny's fingertips. She ran her hands through her drenched hair, taking deep breaths in attempt to calm herself, but it was futile. Her mind kept returning to their hands interlocking and her thoughts focused on Ginny's hands, centering on them until they were all she could see. Ginny's hands locked within hers, Ginny hands touching her, Ginny's hands caressing her body. She could sense her own hands beginning to roam over her body, sliding over her curves, her skin hot to the touch. It was amazing to her that one small touch could ignite a fire within her with such ferocity that it was quickly becoming out of her control and taking on a mind of its own. She barely realized what she was doing as her body took control over her thoughts. Her hands moved slowly at first, the thought of Ginny touching her all over was so fragile and precious a thought that she didn't want to move too quickly and shatter it. But she fell further and deeper into the fantasy and succumbed to her imagination, letting it take her to places she dared not dream of for several years. She could feel the electricity taking hold throughout her body as it piqued and paralyzed her with pleasure. As Hermione gave herself up to the Ginny in her fantasy she could feel her chest pounding, her breathing becoming increasingly erratic as she collapsed onto the wall behind her, clutching it for support, her knees weakened. As she surrendered her mind to the ache within her, she lost control completely and gave in to ecstasy.

She didn't know how much time had passed. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized she had sunk to the floor of the shower, the water beating down around her, leaving her in shock, gasping for air.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione opened the door to Ginny's office cautiously, trying her best to keep the creaking sound from announcing her presence. She glanced around quickly to ensure she was alone before sneaking in. She set the frothing goblet on the desk, eager to make her escape before the red head showed up when she paused, her eyes falling to the maroon sweater draped over the back of the chair. She knew Ginny had taken to wearing the sweater on colder days and couldn't help but think how comfortable the garment looked. Carefully, she rested her ear against the mahogany wood of the door, and listened intently. She couldn't hear a sound. She tiptoed her way back to the desk, running her fingers over the edges of the chair, grazing the thick material of the sweater. The material felt soft and welcoming, as if it were tempting to her to be worn. She bit her lip as she contemplated her next action and felt foolish for the desire growing within her. She gave into temptation and slipped the garment from the chair, over her shoulders and hugged the fabric close to her body as it wrapped around her. She could smell Ginny on the sweater – the scent of fresh grass mixed with something more – something enticing and inviting. There was a warm vanilla aroma combined with a hint of sweetness. Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, imagining Ginny beside her, wrapping her in her arms instead of the cloth. She found herself becoming lost in the feeling and quickly removed the sweater, too afraid she would fall into the moment and become caught during her private revelry. She felt ridiculous that it was difficult to force herself to part with item. She tried her best to replace it as found so as to not betray her presence. She silently slipped from the room, stealing one last glance into the room and noticed how the scent lingered on her body.

The sun had barely greeted the world with it rays as Ginny opened the door to her office. She made her way to the trunk containing the Quidditch supplies when she found herself frozen in place. Sitting on her desk was a goblet, just barely visible in the sparse amount of light shining into the room. There was a slightly misty air surrounding the cup as she noticed a note was lying next to it on her desk. On a single sheet of parchment were the words "_to help you feel better"._ Ginny recognized Hermione's script immediately, despite the fact the inscription looked as though it had been written hastily, perhaps in attempt to disguise the author. She took a sip from the cup and could feel the concoction working, warming her body and soothing it, targeting the areas specifically where she was normally rather stiff at this time of the morning. She smiled and finished off the rest of the potion. A new type of warmth filled her heart at Hermione's caring gesture. Ginny recalled the other morning when her class was already set up for her and knew at once this confirmed her suspicions the older witch had helped then as well. She grabbed the trunk of Quidditch supplies and left the room, knowing the potion was no cure, but feeling much better knowing there was support and relief to be found, as well as the knowledge a certain wonderful woman had her in her thoughts.

Unfortunately, there was no such potion to aid a former Quidditch star in maintaining order within her class. She wondered why classes were mixed with Slytherins and Gryffindors to begin with. It would seem more practical to keep Slytherins to themselves so at least then they could keep their superiority complex within their own ranks. Some things really didn't change, it seemed. She stood watching a group of first year Slytherin and Gryffindor students testing their Quidditch skills. By this point, most students were able to fly around successfully on their brooms and she was just introducing the basics of Quidditch. One petite Gryffindor girl was significantly smaller than the rest in her class and stood out as being less adept than her peers. After watching her for a while though, Ginny soon realized it wasn't than the girl couldn't fly, but that she seemed almost scared to fly around others and tried her best to lose herself in the crowd. After classes, she had seen the girl practicing on her own after everyone else had left, beautifully gliding across the grounds, with no one else around to push the girl out of the way. But once someone came near her, she immediately grounded herself and became lost in the crowd of students once more. Ginny wasn't sure what to make of this, but she could tell deep down the girl had a talent for flying, and that if she gained the confidence, could be quite the swift chaser someday with her small frame and speed. Ginny had been observing her, thinking of a way to help her when a group of Slytherins approached the girl and knocked her broom from her hands, sending it crashing to the ground at the end of class.

"What do you need that for? It's not like you can fly anyway. Why don't you go find somewhere else to stand? You're just taking up space getting in the way of those of us who actually have talent." One particularly nasty Slytherin girl commented, walking away with her group as they all laughed at the poor girl. The Slytherin girl reminded Ginny of Draco Malfoy and his goons and her heart broke for the young Gryffindor. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to use a bat-bogey hex on them, which was something she was certain would land her in hot water with McGonagall if she performed it on students. The small girl looked after the group and Ginny could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. Before Ginny could stop her, the girl ran towards the castle and she quickly followed behind.

Hermione had just left her mid-morning class when she saw a blur rush past her and heard sobbing, the figure having nearly knocked her over. She followed the sobs into the girl's bathroom, pausing just outside a stall she heard slammed shut moments before. Before she could open her mouth to inquire to the occupant, a panting Ginny appeared at her side, much to Hermione's surprise. She could tell the younger witch looked unsure of herself as to how to proceed, glancing back and forth between the door to the stall and Hermione. Ginny looked just as surprised to see Hermione there as she had been to see her and she shifted in place trying to think of what to do next. Hermione gave Ginny a soft smile and knocked on the stall door gently. "Hey, how are you doing in there? Is everything alright?"

The girl replied through several sniffles. "Who's there? Please just leave me be. I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"Well, it's Professor Granger and Professor Weasley and we would like very much to talk to you. You seem rather upset and we would both like to help." Hermione replied as Ginny nodded to encourage her to go on. "How about you come out of there and we can all talk about whatever is bothering you?"

A few moments of silence passed before the door was slowly opened, revealing a sad girl with red, swollen eyes, dabbing at her face as tears streamed down. Hermione ran over to the sink and grabbed some tissues, bringing them back to the girl.

"Here you go, take these. Now what is your name?"

"Thank you." The girl sniffled one more time. "My name is Hope."

"That is a very lovely name, Hope. It is very fitting for a Gryffindor." Hermione smiled, noticing the maroon and gold linings of her robes paired with the house emblem. "You know, both Professor Weasley and I were Gryffindors as well."

The girl looked up at Ginny and blushed, trying to hide the remainder of her tears. Ginny smiled reassuringly at the girl. "Yes, I know you both are. I know all about when you two were students here and everything you both have done." She sighed and looked toward the floor, hanging her head. "I'm sure you've never run into bathrooms and cried. I'm sure neither one of you ever hid from anything at all."

Ginny felt her heart breaking for the girl. In some ways, Hope reminded her of herself during her first year at Hogwarts, with everything she had been through with Tom Riddle's diary and how alone she felt throughout that first year.

"Well that simply is not true, Hope." At Ginny's voice, the girl raised her eyes and looked at the red head, surprised. "As a matter of fact, when I first came to Hogwarts, I felt very alone and there were some very upsetting and confusing times I had to get through. My first year here was definitely not how I expected it to be. But you know what? I got through it with the help of some very good friends." Ginny looked at Hermione and smiled, causing the older witch to blush. "And if there is one thing I have learned, it is that the more you go through in life, the stronger it makes you. You might start out running and hiding, but you will soon learn that you have everything right there within yourself to be strong and face your fears, no matter what they are. Every step you take along the way will help you realize just how strong you actually are."

Hermione smiled at Ginny and could see the girl's tears had begun to dry. Hope looked as if she were hanging on Ginny's every word. "Professor Weasley is right. When I was in school, I would often get picked on for being a bookworm and reading so much and people would call me a know-it-all. Sometimes, their words really hurt me. But I realized they were only words and could only upset me if I chose to let them do so. The power in words is only as strong as you permit them to be. Also…I learned that running into bathrooms and crying can sometimes be hazardous to one's well-being and might lead to life-threatening encounters with trolls…"

"Hermione!" Ginny chastised, shaking her head. She could see Hope's eyes widened in fear as she looked around the bathroom, waiting for a troll to pop out from behind a sink at any moment.

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded back. "You are supposed to refer to me as Professor Granger in front of the students! It's not very professional to do otherwise."

"Yes, well it also isn't prudent to scare them to their wits end about trolls every time they may need to use the restroom. And I do hope you see the irony in what you just said."

Hope stood in the middle of the two teachers, watching their exchange and giggled, quickly forgetting her sorrow. She knew the two were famous for fighting in the war together, but she didn't know just how friendly the two had been. It seemed even to the young girl that they had some kind of history.

Hermione shook her head and glared at Ginny. "No one has to worry about trolls anymore. That was a freak instance, Hope. I assure you that you will be fine. The only scary thing lurking in these restrooms is Moaning Myrtle."

As if on cue, the ghost made her appearance, wailing loudly as she flew above their heads, circling over them. She floated past each of the three, pretending to cry, bringing her transparent hands up to her face in a mocking motion, looking giddy the entire time.

"Ohhh, I see someone came here to cry again! People only ever visit Myrtle when they are crying. No one ever wants to come here just to chat with me, or play a game. I heard sobbing and tried to make my way here as fast as I could, but now I see all the fun is over."

She sunk downward and floated in front of Hope, looking her over. "Are you sure you don't have any nice, big tears left ready to pour out? I think I can see one starting, right there…"

Ginny interjected, swiping at the air near the ghost, sensing she was threatening to upset the young Gryffindor again, who still looked a little fragile.

"Myrtle, get out of here. There isn't going to be anymore crying for you to take pleasure in."

The ghost stuck out her tongue and frowned, circling around Ginny's head again and tried to antagonize her further.

"If you don't stop that Myrtle, I am going to shove a broom down your throat so you won't be able to stick your tongue out anymore and – "

"Ginny!" Hermione screeched. "You shouldn't threaten the ghosts in front of the students. It sets a bad example."

"And you, _Professor_ Granger, should not refer to me by my first name. Someone once told me that doing so is highly unprofessional." Ginny crossed her arms in front of her and smirked at Hermione.

Hermione was caught off guard and her mouth dropped, staring back and forth between Hope and Ginny. Her face turned red at the embarrassment of her slip. But she noticed now that Hope was smiling and any trace of her grief from before had been wiped away. She sighed and laughed aloud, deciding these slips weren't so bad if the girl seemed happier. Moaning Myrtle looked annoyed at all of them looking so happy, without any sadness to commiserate with. Hermione turned and told her to go bother Luna instead and the three broke into fits of laughter as the ghost flew angrily away.

"I can't imagine you ever being picked on, or being a nerd, Professor Granger." Hope said shyly. "You seem super cool to me. You both do." Hermione blushed at her words and could feel her affection growing for the young Gryffindor.

"She is super cool." Ginny nodded, winking at Hermione. She knew she had to get back to the issue at hand though, and that teasing around wasn't really going to help Hope in the long run. "I know those Slytherins can be a pain sometimes. But you shouldn't listen to them because they don't know what they're talking about. I think you're doing very well with your flying and all you need is a bit of confidence and you will really show them."

"You do? You're not just saying that?" Hope asked.

"Yes, I really do. I think you're a natural. You just have to have faith and believe in yourself. How about you and I have private lessons after class when those pesky Slytherins won't be around? Would you like that?"

The girl smiled and jumped up and down in excitement. "Really? We can have private lessons? Yes, that would help me so much! Thank you so much, Professor Weasley." She surprised Ginny when she hugged her, still bouncing up and down a bit. "And thank you too, Professor Granger!" Hope exclaimed as she ran over to Hermione and pulled her into a hug as well.

"I – well, you're welcome." Hermione stammered.

Both professors watched the girl hop away with a smile on her face and turned to face each other.

"I guess we make a pretty good team, huh?" Ginny asked, running her fingers through her long red hair and sighing. "Though I'm not exactly sure how we accomplished helping her, but I am glad we did."

"You shouldn't doubt yourself, Ginny. Hope clearly looks up to you and your offer to help her meant a lot to her. "

"Yeah, but it's just Quidditch. I wasn't actually able to help her with how she felt. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here. I wouldn't have known where to begin or how to get her to come out. I would have been lost without you." Ginny paused after the last words left her mouth and silence hung over them. She could feel herself blushing at the admission. The two stared at each other for several moments longer before Hermione broke the silence.

"Well…I guess it is a good thing I am here now then."

The Hogwarts professors exchanged smiles in a very matter-of-fact manner and went their separate ways to their next classes, both trying desperately to conceal the whirlwind of emotions stirring within.


End file.
